


Blades

by Willowanderer



Series: Gratuitous Reincarnation fics [4]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Gen, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 14:28:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willowanderer/pseuds/Willowanderer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was an archaic art, but was there anything more beautiful than a sword?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blades

He loved his job. He loved the way the fire made him sweat and the ache in his arms after a long day. But most of all, he loved the way steel was shaped into blades. The gleam of forged steel. The shine of a sharpened edge. They were his art, his poetry. Swords of all shapes, knives short and long. Elegant lengths of steel, with polished and decorated handles. It was a nearly lost art form in these days, and many people didn't even understand how to hold a blade, let alone use one. Of course, most of the blades he made would never be used. None of the long blades would ever cut more than the occasional watermelon. The knives might be used for all sorts of things; eating, hunting, practical every day things. Or more likely, they'd sit in drawers or shelves while heartless pieces of stainless steel did the same job.

 

He supposed that if he wanted to, he could make swords for stage combat, but that was almost as bad. He couldn't help it, he had a love affair with the art of swordsmanship, and the stage combat he saw was miserable. Like carob instead of chocolate- like tofu instead of beef. It made him want to weep.

Better that his beauties lived on display than hacked about like someone swinging a stick.

 

He'd done it himself, when he was younger- that was how he'd started. First he had wielded the dull, lifeless weapons in stage combat, then he'd learned to make them. If he couldn't see them used properly, he'd make them properly.

 

So now he just made weapons the world had forgotten how to properly wield. He could take pleasure in the making of the blades, and their beauty. But oh- what he would give to see someone give a _proper_ demonstration.


End file.
